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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878003">In Season</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatpen/pseuds/Chocolatpen'>Chocolatpen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sendai Shooting [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Eating Disorders, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Harassment, Hockey, Ice Skating, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Rare Pairings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:29:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatpen/pseuds/Chocolatpen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Now away at college, Kuroo Tetsurou spends his time dreading the day he has to go home. As the anniversary of the shooting approaches, Kuroo’s dreams become increasingly plagued by familiar ghosts.</p><p>Past, present and future collide when Akaashi Keiji comes to visit.</p><p>((This is a sequel/side story to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785735/chapters/57138400">Touchdown</a>))</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma &amp; Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou &amp; Yaku Morisuke, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Past Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sendai Shooting [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>224</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. On Thin Ice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello again everyone!! :D</p><p><strong> This is a side story to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785735/chapters/57138400">Touchdown</a> so please read that first :) </strong> In this story, there are major spoilers for ALL previous instalments.</p><p>Please take note of the warnings!!! There will be mentions of <strong> eating disorders, rape/non-con, PTSD and harassment. </strong> There is no on-screen rape/non-con. I do not give chapter-specific warnings so please stop reading at any time if you feel too uncomfortable. I don't have a beta reader but I try my best to edit my own work.</p><p>With that said, I know this is extremely overdue! Here it is finally - the Kuroaka sequel/sidestory! :D I hope there are still people who are interested ^^" I'm not sure why, but I was suddenly struck with inspiration and regurgitated this entire chapter last night. I really missed writing this AU.</p><p>I hope you all enjoy this!! Please leave some kudos/comments if you do &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kuroo’s hands are shaking as he steps off the ice.</p><p> </p><p>His vision is blurring, tunnelling till all he can see is the water bottle peeking out of his bag. He reaches up to wipe away the cold sweat pouring down his forehead, legs stiff as he trudges towards the only goal he can see.</p><p> </p><p>This reaction - it isn’t from the adrenaline that rushes through his veins every time he steps into the rink. He wishes it were that simple. He wishes it were anything else, but the truth of the matter is that every tackle or rough check brings him back to unfeeling hands around his neck.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo has his own way of dealing with the rough nature of his sport of choice. He knows exactly what to expect when he steps onto the ice, hockey stick in hand, and he knows exactly how to brace himself - mentally and physically - for it. But there is nothing Kuroo can do at this time of the year, as the weather turns colder and the nightmares return energised and as clear as the day of.</p><p> </p><p>There’s nothing Kuroo can do now that the flashbacks are getting worse again.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not something Kuroo is proud of. He wishes he could say, confidently, that he’s getting over it, but recovery comes slow some days and fast on others. It’s less like the steady, gentle hill most people assume it to be and more like one of the rollercoaster rides at an amusement park. A rollercoaster that seems to be going downhill, more recently, than not.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi, Kuroo!”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo barely conceals his flinch. He hides the slight tremble of his lip behind the rim of his bottle, gulping down water like a lifeline as he turns towards the call.</p><p> </p><p>Yaku Morisuke stares back at him with an odd look on his elfin features; short-cut dirty blonde hair a mess atop his head. He might be shorter than most of the other players, but he has a strong personality to make up for it. He’s also one of the best goalkeepers Kuroo has ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s up with you? That last check fuck you up too hard?” Yaku snorts as he reaches for his own bottle. He takes a sip, side-eyeing Kuroo as he does.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo rolls his eyes, stuffing all his things back into his duffel. He reaches for his skates and tugs at the laces a little too hard. “As if.”</p><p> </p><p>Yaku and Kuroo are both freshmen, and they’re both on full scholarships. It’s natural that they would develop a friendly rivalry over the months, trying to one up each other with every point scored or saved. While it might be fun at times, Kuroo isn’t in the mood to banter. Sleepless nights can do that to anybody.</p><p> </p><p>The nights that Kuroo does sleep only leave him waking up terrified and paranoid, so he much rather stays up into the early hours of the morning with Akaashi on the other end of the line.</p><p> </p><p>Free unlimited Wi-Fi is a wonderful thing. Kuroo is grateful for it, if only because it’s the sole reason he hasn’t racked up an astronomical phone bill for FaceTiming his boyfriend almost daily, for hours on end.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo has been addicted to it since discovering how soothing it can be. They don’t even have to be talking, just basking in each others’ presence. Akaashi studies for his SATs in the hopes that he can join Kuroo across the country within the next year. Kuroo pours over his assignments and thinks over hockey formations. It’s peaceful and comfortable, and most times Kuroo stays on the line long after Akaashi has fallen asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Their trauma is complementary, in this sense. Kuroo likes to hear the little breaths Akaashi makes as he sinks deeper into sleep. Akaashi likes the feeling of someone watching over him, even if it’s from thousands of miles away.</p><p> </p><p>That being said, Kuroo has never been this attached to a person in his life.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it’s his anxiety - that Akaashi might get hurt again, without Kuroo there by his side. The memories of finding Futakuchi with Akaashi, of finding Akaashi kneeling soaking wet on the floor, they flood back into his mind every time he starts to overthink.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo knows how irrational they are, but he is also aware that they are not something he can control. It’s the same way Akaashi can’t accept that no one will ever break in through his window ever again - not past the many locks and sensors his parents have since installed in their home on his insistence.</p><p> </p><p>“-ello? Earth to Kuroo?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s eyes snap back up to Yaku, who’s now standing with a hand on his hip. One of his eyebrows is arched upwards and there is a crinkle in his brow. “Okay, there’s something seriously wrong with you. You didn’t even hear my cool science burn.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe it’s not as cool as you think it is,” Kuroo shoots back, hauling his bag over his shoulder as he stands from his seat. He feels a little bit better about their close proximity now that he’s towering over Yaku.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s going on over here?” Atsumu says, bracing against the boards as he taps off the ice stuck to the bottoms of his skates. Sakusa Kiyoomi is only a step in front of him, turning into a lower row where his towel is neatly stacked on top of his bag.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa is all dark hair and dark eyes, and he’s quick to slip on a brand new disposable face mask when he reaches his things. Germ phobia aside, Kuroo appreciates him as a teammate. He’s fast on his feet and has an incredible swing, not to mention seemingly never-ending stamina. It’s a relief to have him in place of Osamu, and it’s a relief Atsumu works so well with him.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing. Just Yaku being a dick, as per usual,” Kuroo sneers, allowing the expression to settle naturally on his features. He’s had years of practice.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck off,” Yaku huffs, reaching out in a punch.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a joke, Kuroo knows it is.</p><p> </p><p>Deep down inside, Kuroo also knows that Yaku’s probing and teasing are only the products of his concern, but on the surface all Kuroo can think about is the way his hand is clenched. And then all he knows is flashing golden eyes, blood-stained blue tiles and the tightness of his chest as he struggles to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo quickly blinks away the images he’d much rather forget, but not before his body reacts instinctively - by none-too-gently shoving Yaku back by the chest.</p><p> </p><p>Yaku stumbles a few steps away, his eyes widening a little in shock. Sakusa and Atsumu are silent, although for different reasons. Atsumu knows. Sakusa doesn’t. Yaku doesn’t either, and the same goes for their whole team. If any of them recognise Kuroo or Atsumu from the shooting, none of them have brought it up.</p><p> </p><p>They’d asked, once, why Kuroo calls Atsumu by his first name.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re just good friends,” Atsumu had said, quickly, his smile strained in a way that warned them away from the topic. No one mentioned it after that, nor did they ask why Atsumu doesn’t call Kuroo by his given name.</p><p> </p><p>So it became sort of a secret. Sendai, and the shooting, and most things about their lives before college, are kept away from the new friends they’ve made and the new team they have. No one here knows of the second Miya twin, nor Kuroo’s dead best friend, and it’s freeing. They’re spoiling themselves with a little taste of escape and basking in the anonymity it provides - at least until Christmas break rolls around and they’re expected back home.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo doesn’t want to let it go.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, reflex.” Kuroo shakes his head, reaching out in apology. Yaku eyes him again, calculating in a way that reminds him eerily of Sugawara, but ultimately clasps Kuroo’s hand in acceptance.</p><p> </p><p>“You alright?” Atsumu is close now, plopping down on the chair next to Kuroo and making to tug off his skates. He looks worse for wear as well, eye bags stark under the deep brown of his eyes. He’s grown out his hair, coloured it back to black. There’s no point bleaching it every month if there’s no one to mistake him for anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, just tired,” Kuroo shrugs him off. He can tell that Sakusa is listening in as well. All his housemates are present, so it’s a good time as any to remind them of Akaashi’s visit. “I gotta go get my boyfriend from the station soon. He’s staying till winter break, so please don’t embarrass me too much.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said before, I’m fine as long as he doesn’t go into my room,” Sakusa says, zipping his bag with a note of finality. His eyes linger on Kuroo, before he nods at Atsumu and strides away towards the showers.</p><p> </p><p>“Anytime, bro,” Atsumu shrugs with a wry smile. He pats Kuroo on the back before heading off after Sakusa.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo had been worried about Atsumu, before. He worried that Atsumu followed him out of state just to cling onto someone almost as familiar to him as his brother, that he might not ever break out of his shell to someone not in their inner circle.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo is glad, for once, that he’s been proved wrong.</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, never thought you were the type. For long-term, long-distance, I mean,” Yaku says, as they walk up the steps together. He’s tied his laces together, holding the skates between his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what you mean,” Kuroo replies, hand over his heart and buddha-bright grin in place. Even though he knows clearly. “I’m a perfectly faithful and dedicated partner.”</p><p> </p><p>Yaku rolls his eyes. “I’ve never even seen your boyfriend before. You hardly talk about him, just hole up in your room whenever you call him. Does he even exist? I swear to God, Kuroo, if it’s a Russian mail order bride-”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not big on social media, alright? You’ll see him tonight.” Kuroo interrupts, his amused smile already fading. Akaashi hasn’t been doing well, either. It’s no wonder, with the anniversary approaching. Kuroo’s heart thumps hard against his ribcage. He can’t wait till Akaashi arrives. It’s like home is coming right to him, but only the good parts. All the bad is still back in Sendai, tethered to the halls that haunt Kuroo’s dreams.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, Kuroo, I might fuck with you from time to time but we’re still friends,” Yaku says. It’s uncharacteristically serious of him, because Yaku has always been one to enjoy watching the world burn. “You can always talk to me if there’s anything bothering you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo blinks a few times, and then a smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth. “Are you finally growing a heart, Yaku?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Yaku growls, quickening his pace towards the locker room. Kuroo laughs, revelling in Yaku’s frustration as he keeps up with not much more effort at all.</p><p> </p><p>After rushing through what is probably the fastest shower he’s ever had in his life, Kuroo bids his teammates goodbye in favour of catching the train to the big interchange just on the edge of the city.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo isn’t late. In fact he’s early, but he still feels the antsy pull; vibrations humming just below the surface of his skin. It’s the same restless energy that has him tapping his foot as he leans against a pillar, gaze bouncing from his watch to the arrivals screen to the big clock on the wall and back again.</p><p> </p><p>The air grows chilly, the wind nipping pink onto Kuroo’s cheeks, as the setting sun gives way to the deep blue of the night sky. Kuroo wraps his scarf tighter around his neck, checking the time again even though he knows doing so won’t make it go faster.</p><p> </p><p>And then finally, as Kuroo’s heart beat is about to break his chest open, he spots Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s black curls are tussled messily in the breeze, but his eyes are bright and green and they pick Kuroo out of the crowd the same way Akaashi himself stands out from the rest. He’s just as beautiful as Kuroo remembers, just as beautiful and maybe even more than the Akaashi Kuroo sees every day through a small screen.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi comes to a stop in front of Kuroo, who can hardly feel his face by now but knows without a doubt that his lips are spread into an entirely uncontrollable smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo,” Akaashi says, wetting his lips. When he reaches up to cup Kuroo’s jaw, his warmth seeps into Kuroo’s skin and sinks into his soul. “You’re freezing. How long have you been waiting?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo barks a laugh. He doesn’t provide a response, instead drawing Akaashi close and crushing him to his chest in a hug he has yearned for months on end.</p><p> </p><p>This close, the ends of Akaashi’s hair tickle against Kuroo’s skin. This close, Kuroo can count the staccato of Akaashi’s hummingbird-quick heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>This close, Akaashi feels exactly like home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Frigid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Y'all, your response to this fic has blown me away &lt;3 thank you so much for your support!!</p>
<p>Please take note of all the tags/warnings, just to be on the safe side. This is a reminder that there will be <strong> major spoilers </strong> for <em> ALL  </em> previous instalments, so if you haven't read them now is as good a time as any.</p>
<p>Enjoy :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t let them intimidate you, okay? You already know Atsumu, and Sakusa and Yaku are pretty much harmless.” Kuroo says, fiddling with his keys as he trudges down the hallway. He’s dragging along Akaashi’s small carry-on luggage with his free hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not that easy to intimidate,” Akaashi replies, half-distracted with the way the wind is tangling the ends of his scarf.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s wing of the athletes’ dorm isn’t in the best condition. It’s why it’s the freshman wing. As the oldest building out of the lot, it has its little quirks - like the broken heating in the common areas and creaking noises when someone walks through the corridor. The latter really only poses a problem when the other occupants decide to marathon sex during finals week. There’s also the lumpy beds and weak-ass water pressure, but Kuroo can handle that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yaku likes to call it a ‘personality’. But Yaku is also from the opposite end of the country, as far removed from Kuroo and Atsumu’s insulated, privileged hometown as he can get. Kuroo might be on scholarship as well, but he’d do fine without it. Yaku, on the other hand, would not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s few months away at college have opened his eyes in ways he never expected. Now, however, the change he’s been through seems almost tangible in the way Akaashi - in his cashmere muffler, all Ralph Lauren chic - pops out in stark contrast against the ratty wallpaper and the pictures of half-naked women other guys have pasted on the walls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo himself has long since discarded the bright red Jordans that used to be his signature. It was a tough enough task for his housekeeper to get the blood out of them, and now they sit unused; gathering dust in the corner of his childhood bedroom. He still has his old high school hockey hoodies, although the varsity was left with Akaashi, but even they take a back seat to his new everyday wardrobe of college paraphernalia with sweatpants.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Winter, and also being thrust into doing one’s own laundry for the first time in one’s life, are the main causes. Also laziness, and the many deadlines Kuroo has had to meet the past week.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Kuroo can twist the doorknob, it slips right out of his hand. Three faces peer back at them - one nonchalant, one amused, and the last doubtful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Akaashi, it’s been a while,” Atsumu greets first, armed with a one-armed hug. Kuroo rolls his eyes when Atsumu shoots him a wink behind Akaashi’s back, choosing to break up the hug as he ushers them into their small four-man apartment in a bid to stop the cold air outside from rushing in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, it’s nice to see you again, Miya-san,” Akaashi nods, stepping away so there is a respectful distance between them. There are certain behaviours ingrained in him from his time with Bokuto, behaviours Kuroo suspects Akaashi isn’t even aware of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mere thought of it, of Bokuto, leaves a bitter taste in Kuroo’s mouth. If only he’d acted earlier. If only he hadn’t believed everything Bokuto said, hadn’t closed an eye for someone he considered his best friend. There is so much more he could have done.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Akaashi introduces himself - always unfailingly polite, at least to people he doesn’t know - Kuroo slips a comforting arm around his waist, just to let him know that he’s there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you’re the mysterious boyfriend,” Yaku says, eyeing Akaashi. If Kuroo didn’t know him better, he might have mistaken the look as a scathing one. “Why choose this asshole, huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey!” Kuroo huffs, indignantly. “I may be an asshole, but I’m top grade.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Doesn’t that just mean that you’re the worst?” Sakusa adds, partway through plucking Atsumu’s arm off his shoulder. The latter bursts out into loud laughter, loud enough that there’s a few warning thumps from next door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How did you even get in to this school?” Yaku snorts. He quickly turns his attention back to Akaashi, which Kuroo is very sure means more trouble for himself. “Blink once if you’re in trouble. Blink twice if he’s paying you to be with him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo can’t help but gasp a little in betrayal when Akaashi blinks twice, a small smile lifting the edge of his lips. He’ll let it slide, though, since having Akaashi get along with his closest college friends is something he’s always hoped for.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nevertheless, Akaashi has had a long day travelling across the country and Kuroo would hate to exhaust him even further from prolonged exposure to his spastic housemates. He’s quick to lead Akaashi into his bedroom, the only private space he has in a dorm full of testosterone-jacked males, and shut the door behind him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re nice,” Akaashi offers, stepping a little deeper into what is actually the size of Kuroo’s wardrobe back home. He runs his fingers over a few dusty picture frames - one of the old Sendai Lions team, taken the day Kuroo’s high school career ended, another of his family and the last of Kuroo and Akaashi together, in the summer before Kuroo left for college.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then Akaashi turns around, leaning lightly against the messy table, and lifts his hand in Kuroo’s direction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s heart pounds painfully in his chest, so loud in the quiet of his room that it may shatter his eardrums. It seems surreal that Akaashi is actually standing in front of him. Too good to be true, even. Kuroo doesn’t know how many times he’s stood in that very spot after coming home from class or practice, door shutting the noise out with the world, and longing so deeply for this one person to be there waiting for him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Akaashi is here, now. In the flesh. Dark curls, green eyes and all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo takes the offered hand, allowing himself to be pulled close. Akaashi’s arms snake around him; hands fisting tightly into the back of his shirt. His breath is shaky where Kuroo feels it puffing against his neck. “I missed you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Those three words to Kuroo are analogous to a hammer being brought down on a cracking dam, because they are all the signal his body needs to send the heat up to his cheeks and build the pressure behind his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo pulls back slightly, just enough to cup Akaashi’s jaw. His skin is smooth below the callouses Kuroo has built over the years.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I missed you too.” Kuroo says, in one of the rare times he lets his sincerity leak through. Akaashi tends to have that effect on him. “So much. You don’t even know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t I?” Akaashi retorts, exhaling a short chuckle. He combs Kuroo’s hair away from his face, and then runs a hand down the side of his face. The way Akaashi’s thumb drags against his hairline raises the hair on Kuroo’s arms. “It’s been hard, without you. It’s not the same.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo stares, as the deep rose tinting his vision fades away. He can feel the way Akaashi’s hipbone sticks out against his leg, can see the way his skin is smooth but sallow; the whites of his eyes lined in red. It’s easy to be blinded in the moment because it’s Akaashi and he’s finally here, where Kuroo has always dreamed. But the past months have not been kind on him either, and Kuroo can’t help but feel a thick, bubbling sense of guilt welling up within him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One of the best things about going away for college is the way Kuroo can leave all that happened behind. He can walk around campus without the fear that everyone knows him - that everyone knows what he <em>did</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi never had that privilege. He’s chained down in their hometown, trapped with all the people who’d like to think the worst of him. Who make it a practice to, once the news headlines blew up. At least back then, they all had each other. Kuroo can’t imagine having to walk through those same halls day after day; face the same cruel eyes and thoughtless criticisms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s hand tightens minutely, and then he’s sliding it around the back of Akaashi’s neck to pull him back against his chest. He sways gently from side to side, content to enjoy the smell of him, the feel of Akaashi against his body.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi is the first to pull away, only to press back in with a closed kiss. Kuroo’s eyes slip shut, eyebrows pulling together as he nudges Akaashi’s lips apart. They are a little chapped - cold, even, as compared to the warmth of his mouth. The kiss tastes sweet, bordering desperate, as they let themselves loose in the privacy they finally have.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they finally break apart, Kuroo’s lips spread slowly into a smile. He leans down, touching their foreheads together, and cradles Akaashi’s face with both hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There are so many things Kuroo wants to say, so many questions on the tip of his tongue. He wants to know how Akaashi has been doing, truly, instead of the empty reassurances he always provides. He wants to ask about his meals, about the bad relationship Akaashi has with food. He wants to ask about home, about school, as though they haven’t already been talking every day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kuroo!” A pair of voices calls, accompanied by frenzied knocking. Kuroo steps away from Akaashi, one hand dropping around his shoulder, as his door is kicked open. He really needs to fix his lock.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Damn, looks like we interrupted something,” Atsumu smirks knowingly, folding his arms across his chest. Yaku punches him on the arm, sending him teetering to one side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We ordered some pizza to celebrate,” The shorter blonde explains, sounding displeased. “I lost the bet, so I’m paying, but you’re gonna go with me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bet?” Kuroo repeats, almost helplessly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry, ‘Kaashi, but he really didn’t want to believe that you exist,” Atsumu shrugs, snickering even as he turns tail and flees another one of Yaku’s jabs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yaku rolls his eyes, gaze flicking back to Kuroo. “Well? Let’s go already. Before someone else steals our food.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo casts an unsure look at Akaashi. He isn’t exactly comfortable with leaving Akaashi on his own so soon after they’ve been reunited. However, Kuroo’s stomach chooses this moment to gurgle softly at the thought of food. And pizza, at that. It certainly wasn’t on the in-season meal plan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s alright, I need to call Oikawa soon anyway. And the others back home have been blowing up my phone,” Akaashi says, flashing the screen of his phone as proof. He nods, lips twitching upwards. “Go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo examines the look in Akaashi’s eyes for just a moment longer, before leaning in to peck him on the forehead. “Alright. Say hi for me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a good thing Kuroo hasn’t had the time to remove his winter coat or his scarf, because it’s only gotten colder outside. Yaku is quick to zip up his jacket, bouncing on the balls of his feet as they wait for the lift to stop on their floor. Thankfully, there’s no one lingering about on such awindy night, so it doesn’t take too long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should’ve believed Miya,” Yaku grumbles, as the doors slide shut. It blocks out the chill, somewhat, which makes Kuroo’s shoulders sag in relief as he snorts in reply. Yaku’s gaze flickers to him, and then away again. “Trouble in paradise?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hmm?” Kuroo asks, watching the red, blinking numbers change on the display panel. He mulls over Akaashi’s less than stellar reaction towards the pizza, and thinks that maybe that’s the problem. “Oh, Akaashi doesn’t like pizza much. His face isn’t too expressive either, so don’t worry about it. He thinks you guys are nice.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo has never seen Akaashi eat pizza before. It’s hard enough just getting him to eat, which is another big worry of Kuroo’s, especially out here where the main form of sustenance is either instant ramen or something frozen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not that,” Yaku tucks his chin deeper into the high collar of his jacket as they step out on the ground floor. The wind is particularly strong here, fulling through the narrow lobby to whip against their faces. “Are you two okay? You’ve seemed more tired than usual lately, and I was wondering if maybe…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo feels his frown deepen, hands curling in his pockets as they step out onto the sidewalk. He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo feels his breath get knocked out of his chest as someone stumbles into his path. The streetlights are broken, but he can hear the sounds of laughing and jeering as a group of boys lumbers round the corner. The smell of alcohol is strong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the fuck,” The boy who bumped into Kuroo straightens up to his full height. He’s just as tall as Kuroo, and maybe even wider. A football player’s build. He seems to squint for a moment, in the darkness, before his eyes light up in recognition. “Hey, aren’t you Kuroo? Kuroo Tetsurou?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s mouth runs dry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is the first time he’s been recognised by name. He’s hyperaware of the way Yaku is looking at them curiously, so he’s quick to open his mouth to reply. He’s not sure what he’s about to deny - his name, identity, his guilt - but then he takes a second look at the boy standing in front of him and has to blink away the surprise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mori-san?” Kuroo utters in question, only half-certain about his name.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mori Yukio. The blonde boy was a senior when he was a freshman, but as football captain, he’d had a great influence on Kuroo and his friends back in high school. Bokuto and Shirofuku had been especially close to him, as had the other football players.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mori’s friends have gone silent in interest, but another boy with dark hair and a slick smirk to match steps closer. Kuroo quickly recognises him as Fujiwara Sho. They were always inseparable, so it’s not a surprise that they’d choose to attend the same university too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Damn, what a coincidence,” Mori laughs boisterously. Kuroo almost flinches back at the volume. Mori reminds him of Bokuto, and not in a good way. “Heard what happened back home. Tough shit. But at least you got some good ass, huh? And a fucking fine one at that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Right,” Kuroo drawls, hands clenching into tight fists at his sides as Mori gives him a few strong claps on the shoulder. The senior’s rowdy friends have grown bored and are already heading off on another pathway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yaku’s stare is burning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“C’mon, Yukio. We have a party to get to.” Fujiwara says, motioning to the side. His eyes are dark and thoughtful as he watches them. It gives Kuroo a bad feeling, like he’s been splashed with cold water. “See you around, Kuroo.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Fever Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please take note of the tags and warnings from this chapter onwards!!! Those of you who read version 0 on Tumblr will find this a little familiar ;) I did try to tone back because this story is supposed to be more on the fluffy side, but I feel like I still failed ^^"</p><p>I was able to get this out on time (I'm trying to stick to weekly updates) because I was really sick last week. Thankfully, I was covid negative. Take care everyone and enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You promised.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo flinches away from the voice. It’s mellow and soft, but somehow the words cut deeper than anything he’s ever heard before. He feels ashamed, as he should be. However, the world around Kuroo is black; a vacuum of nothing but the urge to look. So he does.</p><p> </p><p>Kozume Kenma stands before him, looking just as young as he did back in their last year of middle school. Dark curtains of hair fall to obscure the sides of Kenma’s face, his eyes as luminescent as flashlights shining through the absolute darkness.</p><p> </p><p>They were best friends once. Childhood friends pulled together by fate, and then separated by time and the ugliness inside Kuroo’s soul.</p><p> </p><p>For years, Kenma’s parents continued living in the house next door to Kuroo. They finally decided to move away, sometime during Kuroo’s sophomore year, to escape the ghost haunting their hallways - a ghost that is, even after all these years, still lingering around Kuroo.</p><p> </p><p>“You promised you’d be there,” Kenma continues, so still the minuscule movement of his mouth is suddenly all Kuroo can see. “You told me you were my friend.”</p><p> </p><p><em>I am your friend. </em>Kuroo thinks. His mouth seems glued shut, his limbs heavy like he’s running under water. <em>I’m sorry, please, I regret it. I regret-</em></p><p> </p><p>“You chose them over me,” Kenma shakes his head, averting his gaze to the floor. He’d always been painfully shy. Kuroo had been his only friend. “You made your decision.”</p><p> </p><p>The words feel like knives, stabbing Kuroo over and over again till he can barely feel his own body. Kenma is right.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa Tooru, Sugawara Koushi, the Miya brothers - they were who Kuroo hung out with in school. Kenma hadn’t been a part of their crowd. Kenma hadn’t been a part of the in crowd.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Kuroo had been embarrassed of him.</p><p> </p><p>Back then, Kuroo truly, honestly believed that he was better than Kenma. As though being somewhat decent at a sport elevates him above the common masses. As though being friends with people who thought they were better than everyone else gave him the right to think that way as well.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo hadn’t known the extent of the bullying. It might be an excuse, an out he’s giving himself because otherwise he might not be able to handle the guilt. But it’s true that Kuroo hadn’t known that Atsumu and Osamu, that Oikawa and Sugawara, that all of his <em>friends</em> had been picking on the one person he’s known the longest.</p><p> </p><p>It still kills Kuroo now, that the way he found out was not in a conversation with either Kenma or the rest of his friends. No, Kuroo walked straight into a confrontation when the previous class’s gym session went over time. It was less of a confrontation and more of Atsumu throwing Kenma’s things - his notes, his binder, his PSP - down the toilet while Osamu held Kenma back.</p><p> </p><p>It’s easy for Kuroo to say, now, that he hadn’t known what to do. That he was caught off guard, that it wasn’t fair on him to be forced into choosing sides. But it’s the undeniable truth that in the moment, in that split second before Osamu and Kenma spotted him, Kuroo made his decision.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t do anything.</p><p> </p><p>Thinking about the way he acted like he didn’t know Kenma, the way he exchanged greetings with the twins over Kenma’s head whilst ignoring everything else that was going on - it all makes Kuroo sick to his stomach. How easily he did that, even after calling Kenma his friend just the day before, disgusts Kuroo. He disgusts himself.</p><p> </p><p>“It was a mistake!” Kuroo’s voice is so loud he almost shocks himself. He reaches out, but Kenma turns away. “Please, Kenma, I was dumb. I’m horrible. I know that, but- but I’ve been trying to redeem myself, you see? Akaa-”</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo-san?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s breath hitches sharply.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, he looks down to where there is gentle tugging on his sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi stares back at him, only this is not right. He is not right. His curls are wild atop his head, little ringlets sticking to the sweat-slick skin of his forehead. His eyes are swollen and red, cheeks flushed and sticky with tear tracks. There is blood on his lips and suddenly, the darkness recedes till Kuroo is left alone in the room he grew up in, staring at his phone with his heart stuck in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stay away from Akaashi.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s message is clear. The picture that accompanies it makes it crystal.</p><p> </p><p>The panic starts from deep inside, mellow enough that Kuroo thinks he may just be able to control it. But it starts to form like a tidal wave, swelling till all Kuroo can do is watch it crash over him and hope he doesn’t drown. He doesn’t know what to do. It was a mistake, going over to Akaashi’s house alone even though he sounded so lonely - so grateful for a friend in their pit of snakes. Another mistake, in a line of many.</p><p> </p><p>But this isn’t right, either, because all of this has happened before.</p><p> </p><p>The realisation comes with the sudden rattling of lockers. The wind blows, and when Kuroo looks up, he’s in a school hallway where the metal locker doors have fallen open on broken hinges. A loud bang echoes off the walls in a never-ending loop, fluorescent lights flickering as the roar of fire joins the cacophony of sound.</p><p><br/>The next time Akaashi appears, he’s pulling on Kuroo’s hand to get him to move.</p><p> </p><p>They take off running down the maze of corridors, panting as exhaustion weighs them down. There is no end in sight, but oddly enough Kuroo is less worried about dying and more worried about Akaashi - Akaashi, who looks exactly the same as the Akaashi in the photo Kuroo has yet to delete from his phone. Akaashi, who is running with blood dripping thickly down the backs of his thighs. Akaashi, whose leg is broken so badly Kuroo can see the white of his bone peeking out of his leg.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Kuroo finds himself saying. The words run ragged between hard breaths. “I should have done something earlier. I shouldn’t have gone over, I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have left you <em>alone</em>-”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi turns, yanking him in through a side door. It shuts behind them with a deafening clang, and then everything is silent.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo blinks against the bright blue of the lockers, the pale blue of the walls, the glossy blue of the tiles beneath his feet. The panic rises again, only now it threatens to choke him like invisible fingers curling around his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not safe!” Kuroo gasps, desperate as he reaches for Akaashi. “We need to get out before-”</p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, Kuroo shuts his mouth when he realises that he’s actually not sure what he’s so scared of. There is something coming, that he is sure of, but what is it? What could possiblybe so terrifying, so horrifying, that his palms have started sweating and his knees have started shaking?</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo jumps when the blood touches his shoes; dark, murky red flowing through the small white ridges between the blue tiles and licking up against the red of his Jordans. His breath comes shorter, quicker, as he follows the trail away and away and away.</p><p> </p><p>And then he spots the feet, tiny and bony and bear, hanging limply where they are lifted off the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo knows what the rest of it - the rest of Kenma - looks like. He knows, but he doesn’t want to see it all over again, doesn’t want to live it all over again. It seems like he has no choice, however, because his head moves of its own accord, guiding his gaze up pale, thin calves and-</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo!”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo bolts upright, inhaling deeply as his surroundings start to fade back into existence.</p><p> </p><p>He’s in his bed, in his dorm room. Kenma has been gone for years, now. Bokuto, for almost one. Akaashi is next to him, sitting up as well with concern etched into his features.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo quickly frames Akaashi’s face with his hands, looks into his eyes as he threads his fingers through his hair.</p><p> </p><p>All Kuroo can think about now is how grateful he is that Akaashi doesn’t look like that anymore - that Akaashi doesn’t look like he did in that horrible fucking photo.</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo, are you okay?” Akaashi’s words finally feel real, with the puff of his breath against Kuroo’s cheek and the rumble of his voice against Kuroo’s palms. “What do you need?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo sighs, burying his nose into Akaashi’s neck as he sags against his boyfriend in relief. “Nothing, now.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is silent for a long while after, as he idly strokes Kuroo’s back like he’s comforting a small child. He’s likely mulling over Kuroo’s reactions and overthinking every little thing Kuroo says, as he usually does. Kuroo has always marvelled at the way Akaashi’s brain never seems to pause, but he really needs it to stop now because Akaashi is likely putting some kind of blame on himself again.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, was I too loud? Did I kick you in my sleep?” Kuroo chuckles lightly, although the humour in it is weak at best. He draws back, so that he’s sitting upright instead of slouching into Akaashi’s lap.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi spares him an exasperated glare. “You never told me how badly it’s affecting you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo avoids his gaze, instead slipping his fingers between Akaashi’s to stop their anxious fidgeting. “It’s been getting worse. I think it’s- it’s because the anniversary is in a few days.” Kuroo pauses, inhaling a shaky breath. To his horror, his voice comes back a little wobbly. “I know you’re here because of it, and we’re not going for the memorial, but still, I… don’t want to go home.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi bites his lip, squeezing Kuroo’s hands between his own. “Me neither. But it won’t be that bad, I promise. We’ll see everyone again, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not much of a consolation,” Kuroo exhales a laugh, smiling a little as he pulls Akaashi in for another hug. The smaller boy melts into his arms, which again reminds Kuroo of how grateful he is that Akaashi is here at all. He had to skip an entire week his senior year, after all. “Anyway, since there’s no way we’re going back to sleep - coffee?”</p><p> </p><p>“Always.” Akaashi pulls back to return Kuroo’s grin with his own. It almost blinds Kuroo with its brilliance, because even now, Kuroo isn’t used to Akaashi’s smile. It was rare enough back in high school, but things are different now.</p><p> </p><p>See, Kuroo still isn’t sure what exactly it is that made him fall for Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it started back by Terushima’s pool, with Akaashi drugged and pliant in his lap; tears slowly dripping down his cheeks. Maybe it was Homecoming, holding Akaashi close to his chest as they swayed to a slow song. Maybe it was the moment Bokuto stilled on top of him, and Kuroo looked through his bleary vision to see a trembling Akaashi holding up a gun in his defence.</p><p> </p><p>It might have been later, and it might have been much earlier.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo might never pin point the exact moment he actually started falling for Akaashi, but that doesn’t matter.</p><p> </p><p>All Kuroo knows now, is that getting to know Akaashi on a more intimate level has allowed him the privilege of watching even more smiles bloom on Akaashi’s face - and that this fuels Kuroo’s desire to protect Akaashi’s happiness even more.</p><p> </p><p>Which is why Kuroo has one of the best days he’s had while showing Akaashi around.</p><p> </p><p>First, Kuroo brings Akaashi to his favourite coffee shop. It’s a quaint cafe, all cozy rustic charm, where they have coffee and breakfast. They take a few pictures for Akaashi’s Instagram, which elicit some interesting comments - @<span class="u">yahabashige.ru</span>: <em>omg couple goals!!! </em>@<span class="u">11tooru11</span>: <em>ew @</em><em>kurooster</em><em> jk missing y’all</em> @<span class="u">creamymakki</span>: <em>y r u doing this to me</em> - before they begin the campus tour proper.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s hand rarely strays from Akaashi’s as he shows him the different faculties, the winter-barren garden and pond by the entrance, and even the big bus interchange behind the stadium. Everything feels exciting and new, even though these are the same pathways he walks almost daily.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, insomnia is too mighty a foe even for caffeine, so they return to Kuroo’s dorm for the afternoon.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi falls asleep halfway through a book, his glasses askew on the bridge of his nose. Kuroo had been planning on getting some packing done for the trip home, but he takes one break laying by Akaashi’s side and ends up waking up when the sky outside is already dark.</p><p> </p><p>Dinner is something Kuroo has researched, but a restaurant he’s never actually been to. It’s a healthy burrito place on the opposite end of campus, sitting on a row of bustling shops and bars frequented by college students. Kuroo is glad that he looked into it, if not for the surprised joy Akaashi expresses when he bites into his burrito. It’s not an emotion he often associates with Akaashi and food, so he takes it as an absolute win and mentally pats himself on the back.</p><p> </p><p>“That was… surprisingly good,” Akaashi says, dipping his chin into his scarf as they exit the restaurant. The wind blows even stronger, even colder, than it did the day before. “I almost want more.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo laughs, his arm snug around Akaashi’s shoulders as he pulls him closer into his side. “I’m glad, but you gotta save some space. We’re getting ice cream!”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi stiffens for a moment, before he reaches up with a mitten-clad hand to tug at Kuroo’s fingers. “We’ll <em>share</em>, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, sure,” Kuroo smirks back, steering Akaashi to the gelato place just a few shops down the road. It’s clean and brightly lit, and a bell chimes over their heads as they enter. The little metal tubs of ice cream are almost glimmering where they are displayed in the counter, all in a plethora of different shades.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo hangs back to observe as Akaashi takes a sweeping look at the flavours. He hesitates for a split second over one of the brown shades, which is all the prompting Kuroo needs to order. “One caramel, in a cone please.”</p><p> </p><p>As they step back out into the freezing air, Kuroo takes a long lick of the ice cream before handing it over to Akaashi. “Yummy.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi stays silent, only side-eyeing Kuroo before taking a kittenish bite off the top of the ball of caramel gelato. It makes Kuroo cringe a little on the inside, because no way are his teeth strong enough for that.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not bad,” Akaashi says finally, the darker shadows of the night casting his eyes in a mystical green hue. He offers the ice cream up to Kuroo, who gladly licks another stripe up the side of it. Kuroo smiles impishly down at Akaashi, who can barely stop his own lips from tilting upwards.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey hey hey!”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo watches, almost as if in slow motion, as Akaashi jerks in his grasp. His smile freezes on his face, eyes widening as the bright pink on his cheeks pales into an ashy grey.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo himself isn’t feeling too good as he turns on his heel, unable to do anything but watch warily as Mori and Fujiwara approach.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Blood in the Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Valentines' Day!! :D This chapter was <em>so</em> hard to get through, idk. I hope the editing is alright TT.TT </p><p>Also, please let me know if you want to see anything specific from this AU! Not in this story but maybe more of some other characters, relationships or flashbacks :)</p><p>Always keep the warnings/tags in mind. Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, hey, Kuroo!” Mori is loud, so loud he can be heard over the music blasting from a nearby bar. Kuroo shifts to shield Akaashi from view. “Join us, won’t ya? Tell us more about that little bitch of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s nails sink painfully into Kuroo’s wrist, his grip growing even tighter as Mori finally comes to a stop in front of Kuroo. The blonde senior has a cigarette between his fingers, one he throws onto the floor and stamps out under his boot.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, but no thanks, man,” Kuroo laughs half-heartedly, already turning to leave, but a firm hand on his shoulder keeps him from stepping away.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t remember you being such a killjoy,” Mori snorts. This time, Kuroo can clearly see the spark of irritation in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>While Mori and Kuroo are similarly tall and burly, those three years between them somehow seem to stretch on for an eternity. It makes Mori seem bigger than he is, and it strikes a type of fear in Kuroo he hasn’t felt since high school.</p><p> </p><p>Mori’s eyes trail away from Kuroo’s, till he focuses on something just behind Kuroo’s left shoulder. The senior’s scowl disappears instantly, instead replaced by a small, knowing smirk. “Oho, I see now.” The vice-grip on Kuroo’s shoulder loosens as Mori’s hand drops back down to his side. “I’m not one to stop you from having some fun.”</p><p> </p><p>Mori’s gaze is hazy and slow from a drink too many. There is no recognition in them - although it might simply be because the faux blonde has never seen Akaashi in person. Then again, Mori has never really been the brains in his little duo. He’s not really the one Kuroo has to look out for, since someone else has always manipulated him like a puppet master behind the curtains.</p><p> </p><p>With a long exhale of cigarette smoke, Fujiwara pushes off a nearby wall. He was close enough to be listening in on their conversation, close enough to intervene if need be. As he always does.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo doesn’t harbour any doubt that <em>he</em> recognises Akaashi. Unlike Mori, who is all brawn and bite, Fujiwara is smart enough, cunning enough that he’s possibly a Frankenstein hybrid of both Oikawa and Sugawara - only he’s not operating under any pretence that he’s a decent human being.</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you a little too young to be here?” Fujiwara raises a brow. “Akaashi Keiji?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo takes another step back, drawing his shoulders wider, as Akaashi goes tense behind him. It must be confusing for Akaashi. There’s no way he could possibly know who Mori and Fujiwara are, after all. They graduated at the end of Kuroo’s freshman year - way before Akaashi ever transferred in.</p><p> </p><p>Mori perks up at the name drop, peering around Kuroo to get a glimpse of Akaashi. This time, his eyes roam over the sharp planes of Akaashi’s features with focused intensity. The way his gaze drops down and comes back up again does not escape Kuroo’s notice; prompting an annoyed curl of his lip.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s visiting me. His boyfriend.” Kuroo grinds out, impatience leaking into his tone. “And we have better things to do than stand out here in the cold.”</p><p> </p><p>“The fuck kind of attitude is that, Kuroo?” Mori retorts. Instead of approaching Akaashi, he’s changed trajectory towards Kuroo - and he keeps going, till they’re almost chest-to-chest. At this point, any of the fear Mori has conditioned in Kuroo is buried under a new wave of fury. Kuroo isn’t one to sit back and take it when Akaashi is being disrespected.</p><p> </p><p>“It can’t be,” Fujiwara begins, mocking and arrogant all at once. He crosses his arms loosely, taking another long drag of his cig. “Did you finally grow a heart?”</p><p> </p><p>Mori laughs. Akaashi flinches slightly, drawing Kuroo’s gaze. Unfortunately, it also draws Mori’s.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, did’ya know? Your ex-boyfriend, the one who went batshit and shot up our town? He used to follow us around like a pathetic puppy.” Mori’s words are coming out between haughty guffaws, now, like everything he’s saying is hilarious. “That little shit was hopeless, man. Strong as a fucking horse, but nothing much else. Shooting up the school was prob’ly the only ballsy thing he ever did on his own.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up.” Akaashi’s voice is soft but harsh, vicious in the way he spits it out between his clenched teeth. Kuroo has never heard him like this; wound up to the point emotion clouds over the mess of thoughts in his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty kitty has claws,” Fujiwara drawls, obviously enjoying the way frustration paints Akaashi’s face red. Kuroo wants to protect him, wants to block off both the older boys, but Fujiwara has circled around entirely while Kuroo was busy with Mori. They’re being caged in from both sides.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, you have bad taste in men. Bokuto and Kuroo are pretty much the same breed. You’re gonna get used and thrown away.” At this, Fujiwara pouts. The expression doesn’t last long, as it quickly morphs into a full-blown smirk. It’s one Kuroo used to want to emulate, one that makes anyone feel sick to their stomach. “But then again, what other use do you have, other than to lie still and be a cock sleeve?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t fucking talk to him like that-” Kuroo begins, borderline snarling. He’s so infuriated that he almost doesn’t see what happens next.</p><p> </p><p>As it is, Kuroo’s head was already tilted slightly, to keep an eye on Akaashi, so it makes his heart swell with pride when the blur of Akaashi’s arm smashes their ice cream straight into Fujiwara’s smug face.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not just a weak swing, either, and because Fujiwara is caught off guard, he lands on the ground from the force of the blow. Kuroo only has a moment to appreciate the stunned look on Fujiwara’s face, brown caramel ice cream and pieces of cone smeared into his dark hair and dripping down his cheek, before Mori lashes out.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo ducks, narrowly avoiding Mori’s punch, before he is able to curl his fists into the collar of Mori’s shirt and hold him somewhat still.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what he gets for calling my boyfriend a cock sleeve, Mori.” Kuroo’s voice is deep enough it is almost a growl. There is no more respect in it. His eyes dart away from Mori for a moment, taking note of all the stares that are being drawn over to them. “Stand down.”</p><p> </p><p>But Mori and Bokuto are alike in every unfavourable way, which means that telling Mori to ‘stand down’ only lights the fire under an already boiling pot.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s funny how you’re running to defend this little slut when you couldn’t care less about all the people you fucked and left,” Mori sneers, thick hands gripping Kuroo’s forearms so hard it feels like his bones may splinter. “The rumours must be true, if you picked him over Yukie. Over <em>Oikawa</em>! His ass was one of the best that I’ve ever had.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yukio-” Fujiwara hisses from the ground, futile in his attempts to wipe away the mess on his face. The area under his nose is stark red - Akaashi must have struck him right in the middle of his nose bridge.</p><p> </p><p>“Oikawa hated the two of you,” Kuroo snarls. He calms slightly, as he senses Akaashi taking a few steps away from them. Kuroo doesn’t want him to be caught up in anything should a fight really break out. “Don’t bring him into this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh really? ‘Cause I fucked his goddamn brains out that night. Bokuto did too, y’know. You can ask Oikawa to tell you all about it.” Mori snickers, knowing exactly the effect he has on Kuroo. The senior pauses, as though he were actually contemplating something, before shoving Kuroo backwards with a wicked laugh. “That is, if he even remembers it.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo sees red.</p><p> </p><p>All thoughts of reason and consequence fly out the window like yesterday’s trash and time seems to slow to a crawl. Kuroo can only feel himself going through the motions as he clenches his fist. He may not be some boxing veteran, but he has thrown his fair share of punches in his time and the feeling of his fist smashing into Mori’s cheek is easily the most satisfying thing he’s ever done.</p><p> </p><p>And then time speeds back up again, till Kuroo has Mori struggling under him; his knuckles sliced open against gravel. People rush towards them, yelling and attempting to yank them apart. Kuroo has just enough rationality to pull away, staggering backwards through the sudden crowd of people.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is by Kuroo’s side in an instant, pulling on his arm as he leads them away from the commotion and down a dark sidewalk.</p><p> </p><p>From there, the walk back to Kuroo’s dorm is deathly silent. Both of them are much too caught up in their own thoughts to talk, although Akaashi does continue to clasp his hands tightly around Kuroo’s arm the whole way. Kuroo hardly registers this, however, as his mind is still whirring over what Mori said about Oikawa.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo has been friends with Oikawa for most of middle school, and more than that for most of high school. There’s no way Kuroo wouldn’t have noticed a change - unless. Unless it was at that party, during freshman year. The one at Mori’s house. Oikawa was odd for a while after it, so off even Sugawara came to talk to him about it. At the time, Kuroo brushed it off. Oikawa has his moods, unpredictable ones following a tune only he marches to.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Kuroo should have pressed Oikawa till he broke. Maybe it would have changed everything, and maybe it wouldn’t. All Kuroo is sure of is that it’s much too late to be pondering over it now.</p><p> </p><p>The moment Kuroo unlocks his front door, Akaashi dashes into the warmth of the shared apartment and locks himself in his small ensuite.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo runs a weary hand through his hair, before knocking lightly on the door. Soft retching sounds are his only reply. Kuroo sighs, slowly laying his forehead on the door. “Aka-” He swallows. “Keiji, please. I know you need to be alone right now, but I’ll stay just outside this door, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>Expectedly, there is no answer.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has always been the type to internalise most of his feelings. If anything, being with Bokuto only amplified that tendency. Even now, Akaashi is still learning to communicate; to trust that there won’t be a violent backlash when he speaks up, so the only thing Kuroo can do is give Akaashi space to work out his thoughts for himself first.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo takes the few steps to his bed and plops heavily down onto the old mattress. Akaashi will come out when he’s ready, but Kuroo is still going to keep an eye on him. Or rather keep his ears open for trouble. If he thinks Akaashi is in danger, Kuroo won’t hesitate to break down the door - repair costs be damned.</p><p> </p><p>In the mean time, however, Kuroo has an important call to make. His phone rings once, twice, before the screen flashes.</p><p> </p><p>“Ya-hoo!” Oikawa Tooru grins back at Kuroo. He’s laying chest-down on what looks like the bed in his college dorm room, face propped up by a turquoise pillow, and his brown hair is in slightly more of a dishevelled state than usual. “What a surprise, Tetsu! You’re lucky Iwa-chan isn’t here.”</p><p> </p><p>“He does realise I don’t need your crusty ass anymore, now that I have Akaashi, right?” Kuroo snorts, eyes drifting towards his closed bathroom door. He feels twitchy just hearing Oikawa utter his first name, as though he were actually going behind Akaashi’s back.</p><p> </p><p>“How cavalier!” Oikawa gasps dramatically. His mouth curves into a self-satisfied smirk. “Still, you can’t deny we had fun together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sure,” Kuroo rolls his eyes. He’s glad for the way Oikawa is still Oikawa, even after so many years of a friendship that definitely crossed the line to impropriety, but Mori’s words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. “Hey, Oikawa, we- Akaashi and I, that is. We bumped into Mori and Fujiwara just now. Do you remember them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mori and Fujiwara?” Oikawa frowns. He looks a little taken aback. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard those names.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, assholes,” Kuroo shrugs, adjusting his grip on his phone. He clears his voice. “They upset Akaashi quite a bit-”</p><p> </p><p>“What did they do?” Oikawa interrupts. His face is closer to the screen now, as though he could possibly reach Kuroo through it. “I swear to God, Kuroo, if you let them fuck up Akaashi even more than he is already…”</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi smashed our ice cream into Fujiwara’s face,” Kuroo grins wryly. Oikawa’s answering bark of laughter is one of delighted surprise. Kuroo takes a breath to calm his rapidly beating heart, and then swallows as though the act could get rid of the lump in his throat. “And I punched Mori, but that doesn’t matter. Oikawa. They were talking about you, saying all these horrible things, and I need to know if they <em>touched</em> you.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s breath hitches. His eyes widen. “He- What did they say? Akaashi, he heard too? Where is he?”</p><p> </p><p>“Processing,” Kuroo replies, shaking his head. “Don’t change the subject, Oikawa.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa averts his gaze, nibbling on his lip in a little nervous tic that does nothing to placate Kuroo. Then slowly, he opens his mouth. “…So what if they did? It was years ago, Kuroo.” The brunette runs a lightly trembling hand through his hair. “I’m fine now. Leave it alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was that party, wasn’t it? The one where we were fucking around just before.” Kuroo demands. He barely manages to squash the aggression rising from deep within. “I know this is selfish of me to ask, Oikawa, but please. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa sighs. He looks weary now, tired and aged past his years. “Don’t get me wrong, Kuroo, I’m not blaming you, but…you were always a coward. You would never have done anything to go up against Mori and Fujiwara, not then. You definitely wouldn’t have risked a fight with Bokuto.” Oikawa pauses, and even through a screen and hundreds of miles away, Kuroo can feel the way his eyes see right through him. “You’re a liar if you say otherwise.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo grits his teeth. It’s the truth, and his silence is damning.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa knows this too, Kuroo can see it in his gaze as he sits up and hugs his pillow to his chest. “I was never going to be the person you stood up for, Tetsu.”</p><p> </p><p>The bathroom door quietly slides open. Kuroo’s eyes flicker from his screen to Akaashi’s figure in the doorway. His hair is a mess atop his head, eyes bloodshot and face wet. The harsh fluorescent light of Kuroo’s bathroom floods out from behind Akaashi, casting his sullen expression in shadow.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo closes his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed with regret and guilt. And then a spindly hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes lightly. It gives Kuroo the courage to open his eyes, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Akaashi’s. “I wish- I wish you’d just given me a chance.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa is grinning, now, a bitter smile that - unlike many others - doesn’t sit naturally on his face. “Now, don’t make this about <em>you</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“He couldn’t if he tried,” Akaashi mutters, sinking down onto the bed too. Kuroo curls his arm around his boyfriend, making sure to cover Oikawa’s metaphoric eyes before pressing his lips to Akaashi’s in a chaste kiss.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll.. go get some water for you. Take your time.” Kuroo murmurs, pressing one more kiss to Akaashi’s forehead, before passing his phone over to the younger boy.</p><p> </p><p>As Kuroo closes the door behind him, he mulls over how much a relief it is, truly, for him to be able to leave the room. He has never been the best at handling Oikawa. They know each other too well, enjoy taunting each other too much for Kuroo to actually have a shot at breaking through Oikawa’s tough outer shell.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo pads over to the small shared kitchenette. The others all seem to have holed themselves up in their rooms. Yaku is likely asleep, if his soft snores are anything to go by. Atsumu’s room is clearly empty, which explains why Sakusa’s room is still filled with light at such a late hour.</p><p> </p><p>After filling a clean mug with water to bring to Akaashi, Kuroo finally stops loitering around and heads back to his room. As he grows nearer, Kuroo hears Akaashi’s voice filtering out through the crack in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>“-have you told Iwaizumi-san?”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s voice is too tinny and distorted to be able to decipher, but the sound of disapproval Akaashi makes tells Kuroo all he needs to know. It makes his heart hurt.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo exhales slowly, then slides to the floor; propping his back against the wall and laying the mug down as he hugs his knees to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>He’ll wait outside for a little while more.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Thaw</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, I haven't written anything like this in a LONG time so please go easy on me :") </p><p>Always be wary of the tags/warnings. 8 whole pages fam! Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kuroo is frying eggs for an extremely late breakfast when Akaashi comes to join him by the stove. The shorter boy stands close enough that their hips bump when Kuroo swirls the pan over the fire.</p><p> </p><p>“Sleep well?” Kuroo asks, smiling down at his boyfriend.</p><p> </p><p>“…As well as can be expected,” Akaashi shrugs, the bags under his eyes growing even more prominent when he smiles back. He gestures to the ready-made toast on the table and the coffee slowly dripping from a beat-up coffee machine. “Why didn’t you wake me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing wrong with sleeping in once in a while,” Kuroo says, gently patting Akaashi on the head. “Now, go sit down and let me spoil my boyfriend.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi rolls his eyes, hand lingering on the small of Kuroo’s back, before he pulls away. Kuroo watches in faint exasperation as Akaashi scoops up the mugs of coffee on the table and deposits them on the counter. If dating Akaashi has taught Kuroo anything, it's that Akaashi can be one of the most stubborn people he's ever met.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Kuroo has only ever fallen deeper.</p><p> </p><p>Eager to join his boyfriend, Kuroo is quick to wiggle each fried egg onto a slice of toast and ferry both plates over to where Akaashi is waiting.</p><p> </p><p>Breakfast is a quiet affair only punctuated by the brief sounds of chewing and the soft clinking of their mugs against the linoleum countertop. It should be peaceful, after the eventful night they had, but somehow it doesn’t feel relaxing at all.</p><p> </p><p>Don’t get Kuroo wrong, it’s very much free therapy to watch Akaashi slowly chew and swallow the simple breakfast he prepared, and it’s endearing to watch Akaashi do so with a mismatched set of cutlery, but Mori and Fujiwara opened a can of worms that Kuroo has not a single clue how to approach. His body is still tense even now, almost like he’s being pulled taut like a rubber band.</p><p> </p><p>It all seems like the calm before the storm, like he’s in the eye of the hurricane and the quiet might shatter at any moment. And Kuroo is definitely not comfortable with the heavy sense of foreboding that sits in his gut.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you bothered by what they said yesterday?” Akaashi asks, as the dishes are being put away. He doesn’t flinch away when Kuroo turns to face him. Instead, Akaashi’s eyes are fierce and bright as he stares Kuroo down.</p><p> </p><p>Any other time, Kuroo would have felt an undeniable swell of pride for the Akaashi standing before him, the one who has grown immeasurably since Bokuto. Now, however, Kuroo is much more concerned with how well Akaashi has also learnt to read <em>him</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“It's hard not to be, honestly.” Kuroo sighs, finding it easier to turn around and head back to his room rather than stay and face fiery green. “I feel like I've failed. How did I never notice? Why didn't Oikawa trust me enough to tell me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo, please don't blame yourself,” Akaashi shakes his head, closing the door behind him. The illusion of privacy is welcome, even though they are alone in the apartment at this time of day. “You know what Oikawa is like. He's headstrong and he hates showing weakness around others. It's not something he would ever tell us, if it weren't for Mori and Fujiwara.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo grits his teeth, fingers clenching in his lap as he takes a seat on the edge of his worn mattress. Just the thought of the two bastards sends anger coursing through his veins. A rush of embarrassment almost immediately follows after, as the memories of following them around and looking up to them flood his mind.</p><p> </p><p>It’s no wonder Kuroo once respected those monsters. It made him into a monster, too.</p><p> </p><p>"Stop it,” Akaashi sighs. The mattress dips where he takes a seat, old springs squeaking under his weight. He leans close to clasp Kuroo’s hands in his, palms warm and smooth as they envelop Kuroo in comfort. “Stop overthinking this. Oikawa is right. It's over, and it's been over for years. If he says he doesn't want to say or do anything, then we have to respect that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay fine, but they're not stopping at Oikawa, are they?" Kuroo shoots back, a little sharper than he intended. Akaashi makes to withdraw, but Kuroo quickly weaves their fingers together in apology. "Sorry. I just wish there were something I could do, you know?"</p><p> </p><p>“Believe me, I do," Akaashi says, lips perking up slightly at the corners in a small smile. The expression softens the sharp edges of his features, and in the moment, Kuroo can only think how beautiful Akaashi truly is. “Kuroo Tetsurou, you’re a much better person than you give yourself credit for.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m really not,” Kuroo sighs softly. He’s not the good guy Akaashi believes him to be, and Akaashi should know that. He’s been an asshole for years, but he guesses Akaashi is the only person he’s shown his better side too - the only witness to the one noble thing he’s done in his life.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s lips have turned downwards, into an expression that is just shy from a scowl, and Kuroo leans down to kiss it away. Their lips meet softly, unhurriedly; a world of a difference from the desperate one the day prior.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s fingers twitch minutely as Kuroo swipes his tongue against his lips, and there is but a second of hesitance before Akaashi drops his jaw. Kuroo takes the opportunity to delve deeper, unconsciously shifting closer to his boyfriend as he tangles his tongue with Akaashi’s in a sloppy dance.</p><p> </p><p>When they pull away from each other, they are both out of breath. Kuroo’s pants have grown much tighter than he remembers, while Akaashi’s face is flushed a pretty pink, just over his nose bridge. It’s adorable, and Kuroo nuzzles his nose against Akaashi’s affectionately.</p><p> </p><p>Before Kuroo can pull away again, Akaashi presses back in for another deep kiss.</p><p> </p><p>This time, Kuroo feels Akaashi’s hands wrap around his back to hug him close. It’s nothing but instinct - the caveman part of Kuroo’s brain - that has his arms winding down, lower than they have ever gone before, to cup Akaashi’s ass with his hands and settle him in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo tenses slightly at the feeling of Akaashi’s firm asscheeks in his grip, worried that he’s gone too far, but Akaashi surprises him entirely by wrapping his legs around Kuroo’s waist. He shifts slightly on top of Kuroo before rolling his hips <em>down</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” Kuroo breaks the kiss with a low groan. He presses a hand against Akaashi's chest to keep him there and for once in his life, feels like he's going much too fast. “‘Kaashi, you're gonna have to slow down there or I'm gonna blow my load right here.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo really only is half-joking about coming early. How the mighty have fallen.</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, though, it’s been more than a year since Kuroo has had sex. He still jerks off regularly like any normal person, but he did go entirely cold turkey when he stopped sleeping around and then respected Akaashi’s wish to stay away anything past second base.</p><p> </p><p>It sounds pathetic, maybe, but the thought of finally being with Akaashi, of being as close to him as possible, is probably enough to make him come at this point in his life. And now, after such a long cold spell, it’s also not too far out of the realm of possibility for Kuroo’s stamina to have depleted to its sad state today.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” Akaashi says. And then proceeds to grind against Kuroo in a way that does not conceal the matching hardness in his sleep shorts. “So come in me instead."</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo's mind, which had previously been short-circuited with pleasure, proceeds to blank out entirely. He’s almost sure that this is a wet dream, something his mind cooked up after being stressed out the night before, but Akaashi is warm and soft and pliant and very much in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi rolls his hips again, the friction between their lengths jolting Kuroo out of his thoughts. This is definitely real, then.</p><p> </p><p>"You're sure?" Kuroo breathes, peppering kisses on Akaashi's forehead.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Akaashi nods, flushing harder in embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>“O-Okay, okay,” Kuroo nods to himself, hands tightening unconsciously around Akaashi. He knows how much courage it’s taking for Akaashi to agree to this, and it means the world that Akaashi would trust him so much - especially after what he’s been through. “Tell me if you want to stop, okay? Any time. Even if I get blue balls after.”</p><p> </p><p>While Kuroo has waited for what seems like an eternity for this day, he’s also more nervous than he’s ever been. He knows he’d stop the moment Akaashi tells him no. He knows that. He would never do anything to hurt Akaashi, at least not knowingly, but it is that lack of faith that Kuroo finds damning.</p><p> </p><p>What if Kuroo doesn’t stop? What if he’s too wrapped up in himself to care?</p><p> </p><p>Unaware of Kuroo’s internal monologue, Akaashi lets out a soft laugh; the breathy sound lilting up into a huff as he pulls Kuroo down onto the bed with him. They land atop unmade maroon sheets, bodies curving towards each other, and Kuroo finds himself struck with a sudden sense of realisation.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo hasn’t been sexually active for a year, so he hadn’t even thought of it. Mentally, he curses himself for his inability to be prepared. Outwardly, he reaches to hook wayward curls behind Akaashi’s ear.</p><p> </p><p>"I hope this doesn't kill the mood, but I gotta go to the store,” Kuroo murmurs. “No condoms."</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my God,” Akaashi covers his flushed face with his hands, but Kuroo can still clearly see the way he worries his lip. Before Kuroo can backtrack entirely, Akaashi reaches over to the backpack he left propped up against the bed frame. He digs around in it for a moment, before finally pulling out a small pink foil packet.</p><p> </p><p>"Courtesy of Hanamaki,” Akaashi snorts, looking at the condom in barely-concealed disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo is quick to snatch the packet out of Akaashi's hands, grinning cheekily as he flattens his palms against each other and looks upwards. “Thanks for this, Makki. I’ll return the favour someday!”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s already decided. He’s going to buy Hanamaki all the cream puffs he wants when he’s back in Sendai.</p><p> </p><p>“You're ridiculous- <em>oh,</em>” Akaashi inhales sharply, arching into Kuroo’s touch as he latches onto a nipple with the voracious intensity of a starving man. Akaashi’s sweater is pushed out of the way and bunched under his chin, where his hands clutch at the material just to have something to hold.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo smirks against the perk bud between his teeth; happy to flick his tongue and roll the other nipple between his fingers as long as it keeps Akaashi squirming under him.</p><p> </p><p>There was a part of Kuroo that worried he’d forget how to have sex, of all things. A part that was sorely mistaken, since Kuroo’s hands are already working at pulling off Akaashi’s shorts, and then his own.</p><p> </p><p>He hasn’t forgotten anything yet.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo isn't embarrassed about the way his cock springs free of its confines and slaps against the bottom of his sweater, but Akaashi has squeezed his eyes shut.</p><p> </p><p>“Look at me, baby,” Kuroo sits back on his heels; pulling Akaashi’s sweater over his head and tossing it into the hamper in the corner of his room. When Kuroo turns back around, Akaashi has opened his eyes and is staring up at him - a kind of wide-eyed that makes Kuroo swell with pride. “It's just the two of us here, and I think you're the most beautiful person in the world. So keep your eyes open, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi nods in a little jerk of his head. Kuroo smiles at him, entangling their fingers together yet again as he reaches for the lube in his drawer with his free hand.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi flinches away when the cool, gooey liquid drips onto his entrance. Kuroo bites his lip, soothing his boyfriend with a slow thumb on the back of his hand. He looks into Akaashi's gaze again, just to be sure, and the steel in them almost shocks him.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is determined, but his walls are up.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay? I will. No questions asked.” Kuroo says once more, his fingers digging lightly into the soft flesh of Akaashi’s thigh. He breathes out slowly, the air fluttering against his wet lip. Kuroo is very aware of what happened the last time Akaashi was vulnerable in this way, and the burden sits heavily on his shoulders. “We don’t have to do this now, if you’re not ready. I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted <em>you</em> for so long, but I can wait forever if that means that you’re sure-”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo cuts himself off when Akaashi reaches up to stroke his cheek. His eyes are shining with unshed tears. The walls are gone. “I want you, Tetsurou. I’m sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo nods, unable to wipe the smile off his face even as he leans down to peck Akaashi quickly on the cheek. He smears the lube around Akaashi's puckered hole before dipping a tentative finger inside. The foreign intrusion elicits a sharp inhale from Akaashi, which Kuroo smothers by locking their lips together again. The kiss is hotter and messier, now, but it’s a successful distraction because Kuroo feels Akaashi slowly relax below him. His breaths transform into quiet moans that puff up between kisses, and it's in no time at all that Kuroo has three fingers knuckle-deep inside Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>A soft whine escapes from between Akaashi's teeth as Kuroo pulls out. The sound goes straight to Kuroo's dick, which twitches in anticipation while he hurriedly tears the foil packet between his teeth. He’s quick to ease into the condom, which pries a hiss from between his clenched teeth.</p><p> </p><p>He might not last long if he's already this hard.</p><p> </p><p>When Kuroo looks back up again, he realises that Akaashi has started fiddling with his fingers nervously.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo can relate well enough to the feeling of being caged in and trapped with nowhere to escape, but he can’t say he understands what Akaashi experienced. He can’t even say he knows what happened, fully.</p><p> </p><p>While Akaashi still refuses to talk about Bokuto - and by extension the incident that caused his broken leg - Kuroo can guess well enough that it hadn’t been consensual or painless. Kuroo has no idea of knowing if it was the only time, if there were more and Akaashi had been suffering in silence the whole time.</p><p> </p><p>Being stripped of agency, of control, is much scarier than Kuroo can comprehend.</p><p> </p><p>So the best thing Kuroo can offer Akaashi now is a way to get it all back.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo pries Akaashi's fingers apart first, ignoring his questioning gaze as he does so, before flipping them over so that Akaashi is straddling his thighs.</p><p> </p><p>“Keiji, can you ride me?" Kuroo asks, bringing his arms around his boyfriend's waist and guiding him forward, so that he’s kneeling just above Kuroo’s erection. “I’ll meet you in the middle, or lay still entirely. We can go fast or slow. Whatever you want."</p><p> </p><p>“R-really? Are you sure?" Akaashi blinks, steadying himself by placing his hands on Kuroo's shoulders. Kuroo can feel his fingers flexing uncertainly. "I've never..."</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Kuroo nods, grimacing as Akaashi brushes up against his hard length. The tip of Kuroo's cock keeps nudging against Akaashi's entrance temptingly. Kuroo could very easily flip them back around and press in, but he won't. Not if he wants to prove that he respects Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>There is a moment of silence as Akaashi examines Kuroo's face, and it seems like their roles really have reversed because this is the most naked, the most exposed, that Kuroo has ever felt in front of someone.</p><p> </p><p>And then Akaashi lovers himself, slowly, onto Kuroo.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo lets out a groan the same time Akaashi's breath hitches. The feeling of sliding into Akaashi's warm wetness is overwhelming and everything Kuroo has ever wanted, all at once. </p><p> </p><p>As Akaashi sinks lower onto him, Kuroo’s hands move to support Akaashi by the hips. In no time at all, Akaashi’s asscheeks bump into Kuroo’s balls. Kuroo curses at the feeling of finally, fully, being with Akaashi. It feels even better than he imagined, entirely incomparable to all the times he fucked into his fist with Akaashi's name on his lips and green eyes bright in his mind’s eye.</p><p> </p><p>And then Akaashi begins moving. He rolls his hips, lifting up and pressing down as though it were his job to drive Kuroo crazy.</p><p> </p><p>“You feel so good, baby, don't stop,” Kuroo gasps, hands tightening around Akaashi's waist. The latter throws back his head in pleasure, exposing the graceful curve of his neck. Kuroo will take the time to mark it up, in the future.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi's stifled panting, the straining of his thighs, even the way his body feels against Kuroo's fingertips - all of it is beautiful in the most base sense. Akaashi is baring himself to Kuroo the same way Kuroo is baring himself to Akaashi, and Kuroo can't help but feel ecstatic that they finally did this.</p><p> </p><p>It's no surprise at all that Kuroo finds himself on the precipice soon after. He pulls Akaashi down, so that they are chest-to-chest, and envelopes his lips in a searing kiss the same time he jerks his hips upwards; jackhammering deep into Akaashi as he chases his climax. Akaashi moans desperately in response, the filthy sounds swallowed and jumbled by the tongue in his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi whines loudly when Kuroo wraps a hand around his throbbing length. It takes one, two, three, strokes before he's coming with a cry of Kuroo's name. The way Akaashi's body contracts around him has Kuroo filling the condom with stuttering hips, pleasure whiting out his vision.</p><p> </p><p>Once the aftershocks subside, Kuroo hugs Akaashi close and presses more kisses onto his forehead and eyelids.</p><p> </p><p>"That was fucking amazing, ‘Kaashi.” Kuroo chuckles, pushing sweat-soaked strands off his boyfriend’s face. Akaashi is glowing and flushed from exertion; his smile shining brighter than Kuroo has ever seen before. It makes his heart flutter. "I love you so much."</p><p> </p><p>"I love you too," Akaashi says, pressing his lips to Kuroo's temple before sitting up and sliding off Kuroo. He scowls at the stickiness coating both their torsos, and then looks at Kuroo sheepishly. "Sorry I made a mess."</p><p> </p><p>“Don't apologise," Kuroo replies, propping himself up to pull off the condom and toss it into the waste paper basket under his desk. A cheeky grin stretches his lips wide. "Just gives us an excuse to shower together.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi squeaks when Kuroo scoops him up in a bridal carry, flailing slightly as he gets used to being supported by Kuroo's arms.</p><p> </p><p>In the moment, Kuroo allows his worries to fade into the background. He doesn't allow himself to think about how light Akaashi is, or even dwell upon the many mistakes he's made. Instead, he starts the shower and allows himself to be happy, just for a little while.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is quick to snuggle back into another of Kuroo’s sweaters before burying himself under the covers, so Kuroo decides to make his way to the rink. There’s only a half hour left before practice starts, anyway, and being on the ice by himself has always been peaceful. Therapeutic, even. It’s something about the combination of the solid skates carrying his weight, the sound of the ice shredding beneath him, and the feeling of cold wind brushing against his face and tussling his hair.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo sends off reminder to Akaashi as he pushes through the front doors of the stadium. Even though Akaashi has officially been excused from school, he still has to hand in his assignments online. It’s what he’s supposed to be doing while Kuroo’s at practice - once he wakes up again, at least.</p><p> </p><p>Once the text is sent, Kuroo stretches his arms up over his head and heads to the locker room. Leisurely laps around the rink sound even more appealing now, just to get himself warmed up and loose. Maybe Atsumu will even give him a little shoulder massage, if he asks nicely enough.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s plans are waylaid, however, when he steps into the dark locker room and finds himself shoved roughly to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fu-” Kuroo snarls, catching himself at the last moment so he lands heavily on his forearms instead of falling face-first. A foot stomps painfully down onto his back, and he looses his breath as he’s forced back down onto the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo cranes his neck, straining against the darkness in a futile effort to identify his attacker. There shouldn't be anyone in the locker room this early in the afternoon, and the doors are always locked before practice. Nobody in the hockey team would dare mess with him, he’s sure of it.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo only hears the flick of a light switch before bright light floods the room. He’s blinded for a moment, but when he blinks the spots out of his vision he stills entirely. Newspaper articles are pasted everywhere - the lockers, the walls, even scattered on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Newspaper articles with Kuroo’s face blown up on them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Frost Line, Fault Line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for your patience!! I'm not able to update as frequently as I used to because - well, I'm not at home 24/7 in lockdown trying to polish off uni assignments anymore and going to work 5 days a week can really drain your brain juice lemme tell you :")</p>
<p>Anyway, I'm not sure if I will be writing an Iwaoi installation but I'm almost 100% certain that the next works will be a Hanamaki POV and a Bokuto POV (ooo spicy I know) ;) As always, thank you for your support!</p>
<p>Always keep the warnings/tags in mind. I'll be back to edit, just like I've been doing with Touchdown. Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The panic hits Kuroo first. It feels like a white-hot brand over his chest as his eyes scour the headlines. They’re all different, but equally as damning as the words ‘shooter’ and ‘betrayal’ jump out at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most of them are from tabloids. Kuroo can pick out the cheesier titles - schoolyard fling turns deadly, love triangle sparks Sendai Shooting, reckless shooter or scorned lover - printed in big, bold words with hearts or skeletons or whatever else they must have thought appealed to teenagers. Some of them are paparazzi pieces, accompanied by hastily-taken photos of Kuroo and Akaashi outside the hospital, or at the hockey championship. Almost everything else tackles the shooting itself in the weeks following.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Back then, the newsrooms loved using the picture Bokuto had framed on his bedside table. Kuroo has seen the cropped image of him, Akaashi and Bokuto so many times by now that he can imagine it even with his eyes closed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even so, after months of pretending - it’s jarring to be faced with it again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Kuroo is able to recover from his shock, he sees polished oxfords clicking into his vision and then his eyes are quickly squeezed shut, just in time for the burst of pain where the foot comes into contact with his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo grunts, feeling warm blood splashing out of his nose, leaking down his cheek and pooling against it on the floor. The weight above him grows, pressing down onto his back till he can hardly breathe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That was payback for what your bitch of a boyfriend did to me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fujiwara,” Kuroo snarls wetly. He’s sure he looks close to feral like this, lip curled and blood staining his skin red, but he can’t be bothered when Fujiwara is smirking down at him - features gloating even with his nose swelling and starting to bruise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t forget about me, now,” Mori chimes in, lifting his foot off Kuroo’s back. There is respite for just a moment before he’s yanked up into a standing position. Still disorientated from the kick to his face, Kuroo isn’t fast enough to prevent his arms from being locked behind his back. Mori is big and he’s on a scholarship for literally plowing people down on the field, so it’s with what seems like no effort at all that he restrains Kuroo against him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, we were only here to mess around with your locker,” Fujiwara takes a few steps back, gesturing to all the newspaper articles as he does so. His grin sharpens. “Didn’t expect you to serve yourself up to us on a silver platter.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“S’not my preferred interior decor,” Kuroo grits back. His nose doesn’t feel broken, but his cheekbone is already aching badly. Below the physical pain is a building anxiety that he’s trying to squash before Fujiwara or Mori can take it and use it against him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is the one thing Kuroo never wanted to happen - that his past would be exposed to his team, his friends, this way. Or at all. He shudders at the thought of what would’ve happened if he’d been on time, instead of early. He would’ve entered the locker room with his team and been caught entirely unaware.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mori and Fujiwara have always had a reputation of being able to identify and attack their target’s weakest point, and they don’t seem to have lost this ability.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All Kuroo can do at this point is to bluff.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t really get to choose,” Fujiwara’s lips twitch, the only warning before he delivers a strong punch to Kuroo’s abdomen. A sharp huff of air escapes Kuroo’s mouth, and he curves into himself as pain and nausea intermingle. He can feel Mori laughing behind him, chest shaking against his back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Being held immobile like this makes him feel so weak. Mori’s arms are vicelike around him, and it brings him back to another locker room; where the cold of the tiles seeped into his scalp and his best friend’s hands tightened around his throat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Where fear clogged up his mind and a single, damning thought ran through his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>I’m going to die here.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo snaps his head backwards. Pain blossoms in the crown of his head as it collides against Mori’s face. The latter swears loudly, his grip on Kuroo turning slack for just a moment. It’s more than enough time for Kuroo to slip out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At this point, Kuroo is singleminded. All he hears is the rush of blood in his ears, all he sees the flickering image of Bokuto standing shocked in front of the row of lockers. Kuroo makes a beeline for him, for his best friend, but Bokuto’s look of surprise morphs into a smirk that is too sharp; too serpentine and the illusion breaks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fujiwara’s face is no less infuriating as he blocks Kuroo’s punch, and then counters with his own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Any other time, and Kuroo wouldn’t have a problem with stopping the hit. He’s had more than enough practice breaking up fights between his team-mates not to be able to at least step out of the way. But Kuroo’s vision keeps flashing, his peripheral disappearing into nothing but blackness. His chest feels tight enough that he can hardly breathe, so he takes Fujiwara’s punch and goes down hard.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s breaths start coming up quickly, each growing even more harsh than the last. He hurts all over, and he can hardly bring himself to move even though he knows there are two big threats to his safety in the room. In fact, the realisation only serves to tighten what feels like barbed wire around his heart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Kuroo,” Bokuto hisses lowly, nudging Kuroo with his elbow. They’re both casting looks towards a group of freshmen, at the centre of which is a smiling brown-haired girl. “Tora’s been gunning for your spot since November.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He can’t breathe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, but what the fuck does that have to do with Akane?” Kuroo whispers back. The hallway is crowded between class blocks, and he’s as wary as ever of listening ears. Friendship with Oikawa has taught him that, at least.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He can’t <em>breathe</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Easiest way to crush a prideful asshat like Yamamoto, my bro,” Bokuto grins, straightening up and beating his chest with a fist. “Fuck around with her for a while. It’ll be fun. And you’ll actually have a date to bring to the fair. ’S not like you can take Oikawa, anyway.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>He can’t breathe</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo glares at his best friend, making sure to shove his shoulder into Bokuto as he walks by him and towards Yamamoto Akane.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>He can’t-</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Breathe, Kuroo!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s eyelids snap open. The first thing he notices is the bright light that assaults his eyes; jamming into them like a million small, sharp knives. His hearing seems to come online next, as ragged breaths fill his ears. <em>His</em> ragged breaths, if the way his chest is straining tells him anything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo flexes his fingers uncertainly, surprised that they are curled tightly into thick cotton. He blinks slowly, till he’s able to focus on Atsumu’s concerned brown irises.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you back?” Atsumu asks. He’s kneeling by Kuroo, kneecaps digging into the side of Kuroo’s thigh. The dull pain helps to ground Kuroo by a fraction more, enough for him to realise that they are not the only people in the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Kuroo mutters, clearing his throat as he props himself up on his elbows. His panic has cleared away, leaving only a deep hollowness in his chest as he watches Sakusa survey the articles from a safe corner of the locker room, and then Yaku - a deep crease forming between the shorter brunette’s brows as he picks up one of the leaflets from the floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s nothing he can do now, not to prevent his team-mates from finding out the truth. But that doesn’t mean that he can’t do anything about Mori and Fujiwara.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s- let’s take all of this shit down,” Atsumu starts, the beginnings of a snarl present. He moves to rip some of the articles off the wall, but Kuroo stops him with a firm hand around his arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Leave it.” Kuroo shakes his head. He winces as he stands. Every ache and pain seems amplified now that all his adrenaline his gone, and his face feels more sore than it’s ever felt before. It feels sticky too, and Kuroo can’t help but wonder what kind of hot mess he looks like.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?! Why-” Atsumu cuts himself off with a single tired look from Kuroo. He’s trembling slightly, probably from rage, and Kuroo feels his heart soften. Atsumu is his oldest friend now, the only surviving one from his childhood, and he is glad beyond measure that Atsumu is still here, protective and loyal, even after all of the things they’ve been through.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mori and Fujiwara broke into the locker room. They caught me off guard.” Kuroo explains, grimacing at the metallic taste in his mouth. The edges of Atsumu’s lips dip even further downwards at the mention of the two seniors. “Tell coach about this. If the school doesn’t do shit about it, I’m pressing charges.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s breaking and entering, and assault.” Sakusa supplies. As usual, there is a slightly disgusted look gracing his features. He steps away from his corner, eyes narrowing at Kuroo’s and Akaashi’s faces on the cut-outs. “Defamation?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…No. No defamation,” Kuroo says. Sakusa doesn’t show any reaction, other than to nod and flick out his phone. He quickly snaps a photo of Kuroo’s face - bloodied and bruised as it must be - and then the state of the locker room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The others will be here soon,” Atsumu says, standing up as well. He still looks disgruntled, eyebrow twitching at the slanderous articles. Not defamation, but certainly straddling the line. “Go home, Kuroo.” Atsumu punches his palm with his fist. “I’ve got things here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No shit. There’s no way I’m staying for training like this,” Kuroo says, shrugging on his gym bag. His nose hurts and the dried blood is still caked on his face. That’s more than enough for him to deal with today. He doesn’t have the capacity to worry about his team-mates, on top of everything else. “Thanks, ‘Tsumu.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s almost funny how Kuroo had been in good spirits earlier in the afternoon, and now all of that has been destroyed. It’s not an empty sacrifice, at least. Kuroo isn’t going to rest until Mori and Fujiwara are expelled from school. It’s a punishment that is long overdue, even if the pair will never be caught for the things they did to Oikawa.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo is about to exit the doors of the stadium when Yaku catches up to him. The latter’s expression is deceptively neutral as he offers Kuroo a wet towel, which he accepts gratefully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll walk you back.” Yaku says, as he watches the taller boy wipe the blood off his face. Kuroo eyes him warily, but Yaku only glares back, so he shrugs and and agrees. There’s no good enough excuse to deny Yaku, anyways, and it’s probably the shorter blonde’s way of attempting to talk to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This whole situation has very likely further destabilised the already shaky foundations of Kuroo and Yaku’s friendship. Kuroo is slightly scared of what the other hockey player will think.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Yaku finally speaks, halfway back to their dorm, Kuroo doesn’t expect the words that come out of his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought Akaashi was abusing you.” Yaku admits, looking slightly sheepish as he folds his arms behind his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>What</em>?” Kuroo hisses, eyes widening in shock. “No! He would never. How did you even-?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You were acting off. Flinching away, always deep in thought. It only got worse once you told us Akaashi was coming to visit.” Yaku sighs, shrugging. “Sakusa and I brought it up to Atsumu, but he told us you’d deal with it yourself. I didn’t want to overstep, if it was something to do with your circle back home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo rubs at his temples, exasperated. “That’s a big fucking leap in logic, Yaku.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I know, but what was I supposed to think?” Yaku snorts. He reaches out, as though to shove Kuroo, but thinks better of it and retracts his hand. “Then Akaashi actually arrives and I have no idea what to think about him. So fucking polite it’s suspicious, but then he acts like even more of a wounded animal than you have been.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo laughs a little too animatedly, a little too bitterly. His nose protests at the movement. “Those articles sure cleared up that misunderstanding.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They didn’t.” Yaku replies, gaze determined as he steps into Kuroo’s path. He stands stock still, stubborn as a mule and showing it. “The only person who can do that is you, and I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me the truth.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s eyes widen in surprise. He was sure Yaku’s line of questioning would fall somewhere near the obligatory ‘did you actually do that to your best friend?’, but it hasn’t. Kuroo has underestimated Yaku, and somehow, it feels like Kuroo has lost.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe they’re more friends than Kuroo originally anticipated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finding himself speechless, Kuroo only nods. There’s nothing more to talk about, and it’s with silence that they split up at the lobby of their dorm building.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo watches Yaku jog away as he waits for the lift. It takes a long time, today, and when it does finally arrive, the group of boys who come out of the old thing make awed noises at Kuroo’s injuries. It all inspires a crooked smirk from Kuroo, even though his mood has somehow taken a sharp dive since being left alone. The ride up to his floor is as slow and rickety as usual, only it seems to seep at Kuroo’s energy like a leech.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yaku and Sakusa might have been understanding, but that doesn’t mean that it’ll go the same way for the others. It will be a problem if they won’t accept him after finding out what happened but- it’s still worth it, if it will bring Mori and Fujiwara down as well. Kuroo doesn’t care if that makes him petty or vindictive. They deserve it for hurting Oikawa so badly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that means Kuroo, in equal respect, deserves to have his mistakes exposed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s not that Kuroo has never had any choice. He’s chosen enough for himself, taking the easy way most often than not, but he’s also aware that Bokuto has always been able to push him into doing what he wants him to do. The thing about Bokuto, and it’s fucked up that Kuroo still thinks of him as his best friend, was that he had always made the obviously bad choice look tempting. Good, even.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s how the people around Bokuto started crossing the lines they never would have crossed alone, treading grey in a black and white world. Kuroo knows better than most how slippery a slope it can be, a slope that Kuroo himself has been at the bottom of numerous times. Lines are blurred and forgotten too easily, when all he’s faced with is acceptance and his best friend’s brilliant smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo had been much too susceptible to Bokuto’s brand of manipulation. He was much too easily moulded, when all he wanted at the time was to fill up the void that Kenma’s death had left behind. Distancing himself from the twins in guilt and shame only led him closer to Bokuto.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, Kuroo isn’t simply blaming all that happened on Bokuto. Kuroo is just as complicit, just as guilty, in the grand scheme of things. He’s no hero, even though he likes the feeling of Akaashi treating him like one. In fact, he’s a horrible person who has allowed his best friend to die, who has made tons of other kids feel the same way, who has, over the years, only perpetuated a terrible bullying culture that his own boyfriend is a victim of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Kuroo deserves this. Destroying his reputation is fair enough payment just to be able to relieve some of the weight on his chest, to be able to get a single good night of sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo is willing to pay that price, even if it had been a forced decision. He is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He has to be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The hockey player is quiet as he enters his dorm room, keys a soft jingle that cuts through the silence. His door squeaks slightly when he pushes it open, but it must have been negligible because Akaashi doesn’t even stir where he’s wrapped up like a burrito in Kuroo’s bedsheets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sight of Akaashi’s peaceful features has Kuroo releasing a shaky breath. He feels all the tension leaving his shoulders, which droop down as his trembling breaths turn into soft hitches, and then strangled sobs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tears leak from Kuroo’s eyes unhindered, dripping down his cheeks in fat droplets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Months of keeping everything to himself, of dealing with the sleepless nights and the nightmares and crippling touches alone - they all crash down onto Kuroo, who is helpless under the sheer weight of his repressed emotions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo is hardly even aware of the way he drops his gym bag and slides to the ground, hands gripping not himself but the floor; as if it could provide him any semblance of stability as his headspace crumbles into ruins.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo hardly notices the way Akaashi starts awake in his bed, or the soft padding of feet approaching him, but he does notice as Akaashi wraps thin arms around him, doing his best to hold Kuroo together even as he’s falling apart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. First Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I edited this as best as I could, but honestly I just really want to put it out so please do excuse any mistakes!! With that said, I think this chapter is... different from what I usually write. Like a breath of fresh air? That's what I hope, at least HAHA </p>
<p>I'll leave the rest in the end notes, so please do enjoy :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This looks ridiculous, Akaashi,” Kuroo snorts in amusement, which only makes him flinch when his nose twinges painfully in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s your punishment,” Akaashi’s lips twitch upwards, but his eyes belay his worry for Kuroo. “Next time, you’ll think before getting into a fight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo rolls his eyes, gingerly touching the bandaid Akaashi fixed on the cut over the bridge of his nose. There are a few more bandages of varying sizes scattered over his arms, elbows and knees and it makes Kuroo feel more like a kid than he has in years. Or rather, it makes him feel more coddled, more cared for than he has been since his childhood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There isn’t anything Akaashi can do about the bruises, but he doesn’t seem as bothered about them since most are mottled purple splotches on Kuroo’s abdomen. It’s nothing Kuroo can’t handle, nothing Akaashi isn’t used to already. Akaashi did attempt to hide Kuroo’s pretty impressive black eye with some concealer, although he hasn’t been very successful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You should see the other guy.” Kuroo says, in response to Akaashi’s withering disapproval. It’s a bluff, though. He hadn’t managed to touch either Mori or Fujiwara much, or at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bus ride to the city is a comfortable hour-long ride with Akaashi's music playing in Kuroo's ear. Akaashi falls asleep on Kuroo's shoulder barely ten minutes in, and Kuroo doesn't have the heart to wake him. It's toasty warm inside the vehicle, condensation gathering on the inside of the glass, so Kuroo entertains himself by tracing little stick figures and watching the bigger droplets compete in races toward the edge of the window.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The scenery outside quickly changes from bungalows and apartment blocks to taller office blocks and skyscrapers, their bus winding past the rushing river that runs through the city. At this time of the year, the trees are already bare branches pointing towards the grey of the sky, but the cold has yet to freeze the channel over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they reach the city centre, the sun is already beginning to set even though it's still the afternoon. The breeze cuts cold into Kuroo's exposed cheeks, stinging the bruise on his face as he steps out of the bus. Akaashi follows after, a visible shiver running down his spine at the sudden drop in temperature.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It's all the excuse Kuroo needs to drag Akaashi to the Starbucks around the corner.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They're greeted by a rush of warm air, hushed chatter and soft Christmas music. As they join the back of the slowly moving line, Kuroo squints at the holiday menu drawn up on a chalkboard sign. His mouth twitches slightly as he feels Akaashi's hand slip into his. Sparing a glance to the right, he sees that Akaashi is very adamantly focused on the selection of small cakes in the display. His ears are bright red.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo's smile widens, but he doesn't do anything save for squeeze back gently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They separate once they get their drinks - a peppermint mocha and toffee nut latte to share.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi clutches tightly at his paper cup as they exit the store, Kuroo mirroring the action as the artificial heat dissipates. The sun has well and truly hidden by then, few dull sun rays escaping from behind gathering clouds, so the temperature has dipped as well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is so sweet,” Akaashi says, smacking his lips together. He holds his takeaway cup up against the light. “Yet somehow so good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s the coffee in it,” Kuroo replies, eyeing Akaashi as the shorter pulls out his phone and flips on the front camera.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What coffee?” Akaashi snorts in reply, nudging Kuroo to get him to come closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo laughs, throwing his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. “Fair enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They snap a quick photo together, Kuroo’s grin crooked and wide while Akaashi employs one of his small Mona Lisa ones. Kuroo watches curiously over his boyfriend’s shoulder as he adds some GIFs and uploads it to his story.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo used to be obsessive over social media, much more than Akaashi ever was. He’s glad that he’s gone almost totally off-grid, but keeping his account is worth if if he can repost the photos Akaashi takes of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo is still a pretty proud guy, and there’s nothing more he’d like to show off than Akaashi.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It's much too cold to take a seat on one of the benches outside, so instead they stroll through busy stores and browse through the brightly-lit shopfronts; pausing outside open doorways when the winter chill starts nipping a little too sharply. When Akaashi shuffles a little closer, Kuroo catches his hand mid-swing and entangles their mitten-clad fingers together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After walking past a few blocks, they swap drinks. Kuroo takes Akaashi’s cup and almost sighs when he takes a swig; sweet warmth flowing into his mouth. He loves the holiday season. He’s always loved the holiday season, actually, only no one was really up to celebrate after what happened the previous year.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Walking down main street like this, dazzling at this time of year with blinking fairy lights and bow-wrapped garlands, the festive mood brightens Kuroo’s mood. It makes him feel lighter, somewhat, and allows him to forget that it’s already the end of the week - that he will soon have to drive across the country and return home to hovering parents and memories he’d rather forget.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That when he returns in the Spring, Akaashi won’t be returning with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It seems even more daunting now that he’s experienced the comfort of having someone so familiar in an environment that is still new and alien. There’s an odd dissonance there, between past and future, that turns Kuroo’s stomach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s sure that he’ll remember this night whenever he walks down this road - whether it be with his friends or alone - and then miss Akaashi and what they had in the moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here, let me,” Kuroo offers, when he sees Akaashi shaking his empty cup. He downs the rest of his drink, already lukewarm in the below-freezing temperature, before taking Akaashi’s cup from him. He jogs a few feet away and dumps both their cups into the trash.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo’s phone begins buzzing in his back pocket as he dusts off his hands. A quick glance at the screen has Kuroo sobering in an instant. It’s his coach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The older man sounds as stern as he usually is, opening the conversation with questions about his health and the state of his injuries. He's leading up to something, Kuroo is sure of it. And then it comes, in the form of good news that has him exhaling sharply - half in disbelief, and half in relief.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“-that the university has a zero-tolerance policy. Mori and Fujiwara will be expelled by the end of the week.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo runs a hand through his hair, uncaring that the action probably messed it even more. He spares a glance towards Akaashi, who is distracted by some scarves in the window display. "That- that's great."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Coach Nekomata can hear the uncertainty in his tone, and he chuckles lowly into the receiver. "Apparently there were... previous complaints. This was the last straw.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don't say," Kuroo breathes. It’s still sinking in, like some kind of surreal dream.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"The football coach isn't pleased at all,” Nekomata sighs, and Kuroo can see him shaking his head in his mind's eye. “He's going to be bitching about losing his players for the next month, at least.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry ‘bout that, coach,” Kuroo laughs. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. At least now, he’ll have some good news to share with Oikawa when they’re back home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t be. I never want my players to feel threatened, and that includes you scrawny freshmen.” Nekomata laughs too, a hearty one that leaves Kuroo feeling warm on the inside. His coach back in High school had been spartan and left most things to Kuroo when he’d become captain. Coach Nekomata is comparatively more laid-back, and it shows in the team dynamic.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Kuroo jogs back to Akaashi, he grabs him by the waist and spins him around once before setting him down again, mouth split open in an involuntary grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re getting kicked out of school,” Kuroo says, amusement rising as he watches Akaashi’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, and then raise above his widening eyes as realisation sets in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good. They deserve it.” Akaashi nods, an expression of dark satisfaction crossing his features. Kuroo presses a quick, wet kiss onto Akaashi’s forehead, which wipes the look away. Instead, Akaashi struggles to control the up-quirk of his lips. It brings Kuroo’s attention to Akaashi’s mouth, and then before he know it he’s leaning in for a kiss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi’s lips are chapped and cold, but that’s fine. The kiss is still one of the warmest Kuroo has ever had.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they split apart again, Kuroo circles his fingers around Akaashi’s wrist and pulls him along the street, too excited to stay still. This is a date he’s been looking forward to for a long time, after all. He was going to wing most parts of it, but there is one thing he really wants to do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Main Street ends alongside a big park, or at least as big as a city will allow. The governor has set up a giant Christmas tree in the middle of the park, and while it towers over them, it is still dwarfed by the tall buildings that cage in the little square of nature. The tree is beautiful in a classic Christmas way, decorated with twinkling lights, shining brass, red velvet, and a blinking star right at the top, but Kuroo’s eyes are quickly drawn away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There, right beside the gigantic Christmas tree, is an ice rink. It’s obviously a temporary one; lit with big fluorescent floodlights while music blasts from big speakers set up under plastic shelters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.” Akaashi says. He manoeuvres his hand out of Kuroo’s grasp and into a proper hand-hold. “What else should I have expected?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, you signed up for this hockey freak. Now you gotta pay your dues.” Kuroo smirks, Akaashi in tow as he heads over to where it looks like they are renting out skates from a small brown shed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While the ice is Kuroo’s second home, Akaashi hardly ever skates. He grew up elsewhere, away from the hockey-obsessed backwater of Kuroo’s district, and never had a childhood filled with hockey camps and sneaking out once the ice grew thick enough over nearby lakes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo has always thought that unfortunate. Fortunately, though, it’s never too late to start.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo is slightly shaky when he first steps onto the ice. He’s used to hockey skates, not these amateur rentals. The entire shape of the blade is different, and he tests them out by gliding in small loops near to the entrance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi’s legs are tense when he enters the rink. In fact, his entire body is, even though his feet are already wobbling dangerously. Kuroo swoops by with the momentum from his loops, smirking all the while as he catches Akaashi by the waist and pulls him along into the steady stream of skaters circling the edge of the rink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi’s small squeak of surprise fades into a small shiver as they pick up speed, icy wind blowing past their faces and chilling the backs of their necks. He seems to have relaxed, with Kuroo acting as a crutch, so Kuroo slowly pulls away from him so that they’re not stuck entirely side-to-side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Starting and stopping are always the hardest parts for beginners, but gliding is something Akaashi manages to take to quite well. He stumbles slightly once in a while when Kuroo shifts his weight, but he’s managed to stay upright so far and that’s all Kuroo really wanted anyways.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A girl slightly ahead of them breaks out of the crowd and flips into an elegant toe loop in the middle of the rink. She has her own figure skates on instead of the crappy rental ones, which makes Kuroo feel a pang of longing for his own skates sitting packed in a duffel back in his dorm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The couple right in front of them stops abruptly, and it is instinct that has Kuroo pushing Akaashi away so they don’t crash. He only remembers a moment later that Akaashi has barely any experience skating, and so flips himself around just in time to catch Akaashi before he falls over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please don’t let go,” Akaashi hisses lowly, clutching tightly onto Kuroo’s forearm. They’re facing each other; Kuroo skating backwards now instead of by Akaashi’s side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry,” Kuroo laughs, breath escaping in a cloud of white. He doesn’t feel cold, though, his body heated from pushing them along. His laugh transforms into a lopsided smirk as an idea pops into his head. “I won’t, I promise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi is rightfully suspicious, and the little frown that wrinkles his brow deepens as Kuroo manoeuvres them further into the middle of the rink. “Kuroo, you-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Akaashi can say any more, Kuroo starts pressing his feet harder into the ice. Immediately, they begin gaining speed. It’s nothing as compared to what Kuroo is used to, but it’s much faster than everyone else. Akaashi clings on harder to Kuroo, and Kuroo is suddenly struck with the realisation that he’s done this countless times before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was always something he did with the different people he’d gone out with. The people who weren’t easy enough to let him have his way, who he’d had to wine and dine before he ultimately got his way and discarded them like yesterday’s trash. Feeling them clinging on made him feel powerful. It made him feel wanted, even desirable, and his mind only ever focused on what he’d be getting after.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s different with Akaashi, as it always seems to be, because all Kuroo can think about now is how beautiful he looks with his hair whipping in the wind. The thought is followed by the desire to kiss the adorably worried expression off his face. So he does.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo slows them to a slow glide, puling Akaashi close so he can wrap his arms around him. He presses a quick kiss to Akaashi’s lips, and pulls back to a little sparkling glint in his boyfriend’s eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“See? Safe and sound.” Kuroo grins, as they come to a stop against the boards.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Show off.” Akaashi grumbles, looking down. As Kuroo watches his expression, his eyes get caught on something fluttering in the air. It catches the light before landing on Akaashi’s cheek and disappearing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then Kuroo feels something cold and wet land on his face- and then another, and another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi’s eyelashes flutter as he looks upwards, blinking against the bright lights. “It’s snowing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo stares down at Akaashi, too taken to notice how everyone around them has started scrambling to take videos of the first snow of the year. There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he could say. His heart swells unbelievably large in his chest, till it almost hurts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s been a full year since the shooting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s been exactly twelve months, exactly three hundred and sixty-five days, and yet there are still times Kuroo feels like it could have happened just the day before. The pain is still there, lingering in the shattered remains of his soul, but he’s grateful that if anything, he still has Akaashi by his side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo opens his mouth. “Hey, ‘Kaashi, I-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t.” Akaashi shakes his head. He wraps an arm around Kuroo’s bicep, pulling him close and pressing his cheek into the juncture between Kuroo’s neck and shoulder; just above the collar of his puffer jacket. His voice is thick with emotion. “Please don’t be sappy now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kuroo hugs Akaashi closer, concerned. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing,” Akaashi sighs. He curls his hand into the front of Kuroo’s sweater, breath puffing hot against Kuroo’s skin. “I’m just- just happy. You make me happy, Kuroo.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Kuroo thought his heart was swelling before, it’s now at the point of bursting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You too, you know. You make me happier than I could have imagined.” Kuroo says, gently running his hands through Akaashi’s dark curls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akaashi laughs into Kuroo’s neck. He pulls back, a teasing little smile dancing on his lips. “You must say that to all the others.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kuroo’s mouth spreads into a smirk as he pulls them towards the exit; his hands wrapped firmly around Akaashi’s.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Although it’s freezing, they’re no longer shaking.</p>
<p> </p>
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<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>{End}</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>... And we're done :) Thank you all for your support and love for In Season, as well as the Sendai Shooting Series!! Please do leave some kudos/comments to feed this starving author ;)</p>
<p>I hope you enjoyed this installation! I think In Season was a little <em>too</em> fluffy and clean for me LOL So do expect our regularly scheduled content to come back in the next installation - Hanamaki's POV. I'm about 2-3 pages into the first chapter and I'm having a fucking BLAST lmao</p>
<p>Till then, take care &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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